by Keith Keffer
Maybe she should call Officer Jimmy. He seemed eager to help. What would she say to him? That a book might have moved, and it was creeping her out. Nope, that wasn't going to happen.
She had probably left it on the bed. There's even some rule for that, isn't there? Something about the most likely explanation being the right one. No one else was home, and it wasn't like the box climbed up there by itself, so it must have been her.
Seeing that picture of dad and mom together, happy, had been a surprise. Exhaustion, shock and if Morgan was being honest with herself, a little fear, could really mess with your head. Everything was sort of a blur after she saw that picture. Maybe it wasn't even them. It wasn't like she studied it under a magnifying glass.
"Screw this," said Morgan. Leaning the bat against the wall, she sat on the bed. Holding the flashlight in her right hand, she opened the book. The picture was still there, and it looked exactly like she remembered it. On the back someone had written it block letters "Morgan - 6 months." That would have been dad. Mom always wrote in cursive that a doctor would have struggled to read, but not dad. Except for when he signed his name he would print in those big, block letters.
Yeah. The picture was definitely dad and mom and a baby Morgan. It was probably some sort of scrapbook that never got finished. Flipping the pages, she looked for more pictures. There weren't any. Well, not any photos. The pages were filled with doodles and random letters that looked like a child had filled the book with scribbles.
Everything had been drawn with a heavy ink that raised off of the paper. Switching the flashlight to her left hand, she ran her fingers over the page. Her finger still glowed, and it sort of rubbed off when she touched the letters. They started to glow too, but it didn't stop with just the letters she touched. It hopped from letter to letter, spreading across the page until the entire page gave off a faint blue glow.
She turned the page and touched another letter. The same thing happened, and it kept on happening to every page she touched with her glowing finger. She fanned the pages, letting them flap across her fingertip, and each and everyone one started to give off the same glow.
Morgan giggled. It wasn't the happy giggle you hear when you see something amusing. Nope, this was the type of giggle someone would make while they were being fitted for that special, white jacket. The one with the cool sleeves that wrap all the around to the back. There was no way this was really happening. The stress had finally gotten to her, and she was losing it.
Books don't move around on their own, and they don't light up when you touch them with a glowing finger. Even ET didn't do that. Or did he? It had been so long since she saw that movie that maybe he did.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This isn't real, she told herself. I'm going to open my eyes, and the blue glow will be gone. Everything will be back to normal.
Nope. When she opened her eyes the book still glowed. This wasn't some super, elaborate prank, and she didn't think she was going nuts. It wasn't her that was crazy. It was the book. The pages were no longer covered in random gibberish. Well, the doodles and the weird letter combinations were still there, but they were no longer gibberish, nor did they seem random. In fact, when Morgan looked closer at the page, they made perfect sense.
The Conjuration of Elemental Essences was the title of the page her hand rested on. Another page was A Ritual of Protection. There were pages with incantations, bindings and even recipes.
Morgan laughed. It was the first genuine laugh she had in days. Henry had a friggin' spell book under his bed.
Across the hall, lights flickered from Morgan's room. On than off. On the third try the light stayed on, shining into Henry's room through the open doors, and Morgan had to blink her eyes several times to clear them after being bathed in the bright light. When her eyes cleared, the book no longer glowed, and the worst of the storm had passed.
Closing the book and switching off the flashlight, she headed back to her room where she took the photo and tucked it into the corner of the mirror above her dresser. She certainly wasn't going to keep it as a bookmark.
Sitting down at her desk, she pushed her laptop out of the way to make room for the book. She reached for a bulky stapler to weigh down the pages so that they wouldn't stick together, but when she opened the book the pages rested flat against the desk.
There was no table of contents or index in the book. For that matter, there didn't even appear to be a pattern to how the spells were sorted.
She glanced at the clock on the corner of her nightstand. It flashed 12:00. Thanks to the power going off, the clock had reset itself. Now, she had no idea what the exact time was, beyond really, friggin' late. The smart thing would be to close the book and crawl under the covers. Get some rest and take a look at this in the morning after she got a good night's rest.
Yeah, that might have worked if she wasn't dying from curiosity. Is this book for real? Where did Henry get it? Why did it make her finger glow like a cross-dressing extraterrestrial on a flying bike? Hell, why did it glow when she touched it. Morgan really doubted that she would be able to fall right to sleep with all of that running through her head.
"Alright," she said to herself. "I'll read the first one, then I'm going to bed."
When she next looked up from the book, the flashing clock displayed 12:53, but she no longer felt tired. She jumped up from the chair and started to pace the room.
"This is crazy. There's no way any of it can be true."
"It wouldn't hurt to try. It can't be worse that calling the psychic hotline lady for help."
"No. It could be a lot worse. What if something bad happens."
"Damn it. Something bad already has happened."
"If there is the tiniest chance it could help find Henry, then I have to try."
"Holy hell, I'm arguing with myself," said Morgan. "I really have lost my mind haven't I. Shit. I'm still doing it."
Clamping both hands over her mouth to keep herself from talking out loud, she stopped pacing and looked down at the list she had written next to the book: a knife, a yardstick, lots of salt, five candles, nine strands of hair. It wasn't much of a list, but it was all she needed if she wanted to try the first spell in the book. She was sure that Aunt Helen would have enough salt and candles in the pantry, and she'd pull the hair from her own scalp. The book had been pretty clear on that. The hair had to be plucked from the head and not cut.
She decided to start with the hair. If after plucking nine strands of hair out of her head, this still seemed like a good idea, she'd go ahead and gather the rest of the items from the list. With a pair of tweezers in hand, she stood in front of her dresser and began to pluck out the hairs that she needed. When she was done, she twisted the strands together and then tied them into a loop. The book didn't mention a specific size, but it was big enough to slip over her wrist. That was probably good enough.
Next came the knife, yardstick and candles. She picked up a box of matches too. The salt was going to be a problem. Aunt Helen had two of those little blue barrels of salt in the pantry. More than enough for any reasonable purpose, but Morgan didn't think that would be enough for what she was planning.
"Well, salt's salt, right?"
Heading into the basement, she went to the closet where the water softener sat. Three forty-pound bags of salt crystals were stacked on the floor next to it. One of those should be enough. Morgan lifted the topmost bag and grabbed it in a bear hug. The size of the bag made it awkward, but she carried them in from the car. Getting one of the bags upstairs to her room wasn't an impossible task.
At first, she thought about casting the spell in the kitchen, but then she'd have to explain the scratches in the table to Aunt Helen. In her bedroom, she could just pull back the throw rug, do what needs to be done, and when she finished she could drop the throw rug over it, hiding it the spell circle from sight. No one would be the wiser.
For a brief moment she considered doing it in the basement. It would have saved her from
having to carry forty pounds of salt upstairs. The spider web stretched across the top of the water softener made the decision for her. Morgan had no desire to meet the thing that had created the web, and she figured where there was one, there was probably more. Lots more. Just thinking about the spider web gave her a boost up the stairs.
Definitely her bedroom. That would be the best place. No spiders there. Even with everything that had happened this week, she still combed her room for stray webs. It was clean. Well, at least of spider webs.
She placed everything but the big ol' bag of salt on her desk next to the book. The salt sat on the floor beside it. She cut open the bag with the knife and pulled out a handful of the salt crystals. They were a lot bigger than the stuff you shook out of a salt shaker. Each one was about the size of the tip of her pinky finger.
Carefully, she poured the handful onto the desk and smoothed it into a straight light.
"Yeah, that'll work", she said.
CH 3 - Seemed like a Good Idea
Morgan used a chipped coffee cup to dig out the salt crystals from the bag and poured them into a circle around the pentagram. It had taken her about an hour to scratch the symbol into the floor with a kitchen knife and a yardstick she found in the closet. With the last of the salt in the bag, she closed the circle and made sure there weren't any gaps.
The book said the circle was symbolic like the pentagram inside. Exact measurements weren't required for the spell to work.
Morgan didn't buy it for a second. She triple checked every line, made sure the circle was perfectly round, that each point of the pentagram touched the protective ring. Considering this was the first time that she ever attempted to cast a spell, she didn't want to take any chances.
The five candles went next, one at each point of the pentagram. They were birthday candles with a blue swirl going down the side. She had considered running to the local Shop-O-Mart to get better candles, but the book said any unused candle would do. She pushed them into the salt being careful not to cross over the circle.
Once the candles were in place, she pressed the edge of the knife against her left thumb. This is stupid, she thought. I should be searching for Henry instead of playing witch. I should be with Aunt Helen at the hospital.
Except, they had already searched everywhere during the last week. There had been no sign of Henry. And, there was nothing she could do at the hospital. Doing nothing felt horrible. No. It was worse than horrible. It felt useless.
The summoning spell was crazy, but it also felt right. It might not be the best idea Morgan ever had, but at least it was an idea. She was doing something besides mourning the loss of her cousin. Henry believed in magic, and if it could help save him, she'd believe in magic too.
She slid the knife down her thumb and blood welled up in its wake. Her thumb burned from the cut, but she held it still, fighting the instinct to shake the pain away. She hoped it was enough. Cupping her hand under her thumb, she kept any stray drops of blood from hitting the floor while she went to each of the candles.
Above each candle she squeezed her thumb until a few drops of blood covered the wick. As much as she studied the spell, she had no way of knowing how much blood was needed for each candle. She held her thumb in place until a tiny pool formed around the wick, then she moved to the next candle doing her best to put the same amount on each one.
When she finished with the last candle she put a bandage on her thumb, and only when the cut was completely covered with pictures of cartoon characters did she pick up the old book.
"Here we go."
Morgan opened the book to the index card that she had used as a placeholder, took a deep breath, and then began to speak the words printed upon the page.
The words of the chant made no sense to her. They were simply sounds that flowed together. She couldn't even be sure she was pronouncing them correctly, but as each syllable left her mouth it felt right. They echoed with a hum that was like too much bass through a cheap speaker. She could feel the power of the spell fill the air.
A candle flickered to life. Then another. One after another, they flared then burned with a bluish flame that stood straight up, never flickering. Morgan repeated the chant a second time, and a cloud of blue-gray smoke formed above the pentagram. The smell of sulfur filled the air. As she finished the chant for the third time, something popped, and the smoke cleared.
A naked creature about two feet tall stood in the middle of the circle. It was bent over with hands and knees on the floor, coughing and wheezing. Tears flowed from its eyes and its nose was running. It looked like a man, albeit a small man with an overly large head. Its nose was bulbous, and its ears came to a peak. If dwarfs and elves ever hooked up, the creature in the circle could have been the result.
"Holy shit!" The words came out of Morgan's mouth before she could stop them. The spell worked.
The creature's eyes popped open to reveal solid black orbs. "Damnation!" It spun around revealing a rat-like tail as it ran as fast as its feet could carry it. The salt circle flashed blue and the little demon bounced back like it had slammed into a wall. Landing on its back, it jumped to its feet and ran off in the opposite direction, coming right at Morgan.
She flinched as it crashed into the invisible barrier. It was sort of like the mime in a box act, except that when the creature hit the wall, she could see its fat nose flatten against its face just before it fell backwards.
Sitting on the ground, it rubbed its nose and looked around. Its head rotated completely in a circle before coming back to face Morgan. "This isn't right," it said. "I shouldn't be here. This isn't supposed to happen. There are rules you know."
The creature waved a hand in front of its body. "Look at me? Do you think I want to look like this? Stupid spell. You couldn't have at least given me pants?"
Morgan's eyes were wide. It had worked. She had summoned a creature to help her. Who was she kidding, it wasn't just any creature. It was a demon. Albeit a much smaller, less frightening demon than she had expected.
For such a small thing, it had a deep voice. It wasn't loud, but each word had been pronounced perfectly. If the demon thing didn't work out for him, he'd have a great future as a radio announcer.
She started to walk around the circle to get a better look at the being trapped inside.
The demon's head rotated to watch her the entire time. She did two laps and was about to start a third.
"Will you stop that," said the demon. "You are making me dizzy, and I can't concentrate. Just stand still until I figure out what went wrong."
"Ok," said Morgan, backing away from the circle. "Who are you?" she asked. "Scratch that, what type of demon are you? Can you help me?"
The demon hissed. "Shh!" It squinted up its face and a vein popped out on its forehead.
Morgan had seen that face before, normally on a baby just before he filled his diaper. Before he could make a mess, she said, "Don't you dare take a crap on my floor."
"Fire and ash, woman. Can't you be quiet." The demon climbed to its feet and extended a stubby finger toward the barrier. It hummed as he drew near. The sound stopped as soon as he returned to the center of the circle.
"Nice job," it said with a nod to the circle. "I'm completely cut off in here. I don't suppose you'll take it down, so I can check in with the office. There's probably a manual for this sort of situation."
"Office? Manual? Take down the circle? Are you kidding me?" The words sort of rushed out of Morgan before she realized she was the one in control. "Now you listen here, demon. I summoned you, and by the rights that bind you to this world, you must perform one task for me."
"Yeah," said the demon. "That is normally how summonings work, but you aren't supposed to be able to summon me. I mean, there is a whole line of demons waiting to be summoned. You don't get to just grab one willy-nilly. That's not how this works. There are rules. You take down the barrier and I'll call my partner. We can get this straightened out and have a demon more suited to doing your
bidding here in no time."
"No. You have to help me first. I need you to tell me where my cousin, Henry, is. Once I find him, then I'll release you."
"Why?" asked the demon. "What did he ever do to you? You probably want to put a curse on him. That's always the way with mortal witches. Curse this or curse that. Always cursing something. Is that your plan?"
"What? No. He's been missing for days. No one knows where he is or what happened to him." She paused. "Henry had this old book, and well, it sort of glowed when I touched it. I knew it was crazy, but I was out of options. I didn't know what else to do."
"You're telling me you aren't a witch?"
"Of course, I'm not a witch. I just want to find my cousin and bring him home."
The demon knelt and looked at the summoning circle. "Are you sure you aren't a witch? This is really good work. Not what I would expect from a dabbler."
"Well, I did study the book. I didn't want to do something stupid."
"You summoned a demon. To most people that would qualify as something stupid."
"I was desperate. They called off the search today, and I couldn't go into the weekend without giving it a try. I needed to do something."
"It's the weekend? " The demon got to its feet and smiled, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth. "It's not Monday?"
"Today's Friday or it was. It's really just very early on Saturday morning. Why does that matter?"
"Trust me, it matters. You want me to help you help your cousin?"
"Yes." Morgan blinked away a tear. This wasn't going like she expected. He seemed more confused than she felt. She wasn't going to start crying in front of a demon. At least that was what she kept telling herself.
"Alright. I'll do it. You said something about a book. Can I see it?"
Morgan sniffled, then said. "Really? Just like that? You are going to help me?"
"Well, it's not like I have a lot of options. The spell you used sort of compels me to. Besides, it is what I do. Sort of. Not everyone who ends up in the underworld is a monster. Some of us just make the wrong decisions at the wrong time and never get a chance to make it right. Maybe helping you perform a selfless act will earn me a point in the right column."
